


What Did We Miss?

by The5thCat



Series: If This Is It [2]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, POV Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Season/Series 03 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23301613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The5thCat/pseuds/The5thCat
Summary: While keeping a vigilant watch as Callum sleeps, Rayla has a surprising amount of time to reflect on their journey, her past, and what exactly the future has in store for humans and elves alike.A companion/sequel/part 2 to "If This Is It" that I couldn't help but write, takes place almost immediately after the first part and before the nighttime scene where the humans and elves witness Zubeia waking up. Rayllum.
Relationships: Azymondias & Ezran (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Ezran & Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Series: If This Is It [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675750
Comments: 6
Kudos: 84





	What Did We Miss?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, all. Thanks for checking out my work. This is a part 2 to If This Is It, which if you haven't read you can find on my profile. I originally meant to post it as a chapter 2 so that it might be a proper two-shot, but I ended up writing this bit in a completely different way than the first part. Namely, this story is written in the present tense, whereas If This Is It is written in the past tense. I don't really know why they turned out differently, as I normally don't write this way, but trying to edit either story so that they matched was such a pain that I just decided not to. I felt Rayla's thoughts fit better in a present-tense style. Also, I wanted to write more Rayllum, so there's some of that in it for you all too.
> 
> If that doesn't scare you away, I'll shut up and get on with it. Thanks for reading!

Rayla rests there for more than 2 hours. For a while, she merely sits down, watching Callum’s chest rise and fall. The runes painted on his arms glow intermittently while he sleeps, as if soaking up the magical energy in the air to replenish his strength. Rayla’s mind races as she watches him, the fringe of dark brown hair on his head rustling with each of his breaths.

She’d expected to be a bloody stain on the ground at the foot of the Storm Spire by now, not sitting here watching him rest. Callum didn’t even know whether or not he could cast the spell that gave him wings. The idiot wasn’t supposed to _jump_ after her.

She’s really glad that he did.

There’s activity outside the cave, the sounds of an army milling about after a battle. The wounded are probably being treated, and those that are healthy but not trained in field medicine (or simply aren’t needed) are searching for other things to fill their time. But they all steer clear of the Dragon Queen’s cave, and Rayla is glad for the privacy. It lets her be alone with a sleeping Callum and her thoughts and lets her avoid the dirty looks.

At least, she’s pretty sure that they’ll be getting dirty looks eventually. She’s an elf, and he’s a _human,_ and she thinks that they’re past the point of being able to hide their relationship anymore. Most of the elves and dragons this side of the border _hate_ humans (and honestly, most of the humans across that same border hate elves and dragons), relying on the narrative of history and a few isolated experiences to cast a wide net of judgment without really even _knowing_ any of them. Rayla’s certain that there are more humans out there like Callum and Ezran; open-minded, kind, amenable to change.

There have to be, after what they’d accomplished together. The armies of Duren and the Katolis deserters, when combined with dragons and the elves of Lux Aurea, had proven to be a formidable fighting force. An unlikely union that, when push came to shove, stood tall against an evil that sought to wipe them all out.

They have to be able to build on today. Humans and elves working together, and now on a scale much larger than just Rayla and Callum and Ezran… it was an experience that could bring an end to the war, that could show the people of Xadia and the human kingdoms that despite their prickly history, they aren’t that different after all. That peace is possible, and all they need to do is want it.

Rayla eventually gets bored with sitting up straight and, determined to stay with Callum, concedes to lie down on her bedroll beside him. She’s not going to try and sleep yet—her blood is still pumping a little too hotly for that—instead she stares up at the ceiling, glittering with crystals and embellished with impressive elven architecture. She wonders what it was like when the Dragonguard were here and at full strength, when her parents roamed these halls.

She misses them. Her parents’ duty as Dragonguards had pulled them away from her when she was younger, and she’d had to fill the void with Runaan and Ethari. Not that she has anything against the two men—they’re her second family, and in some ways she’s closer to them than her actual birth parents. But she still misses her mother and father. No matter how hard Runaan and Ethari might try, they could never replace the two people that brought her into the world.

There was a time when she’d been bitter about that. Instead of her parents, it had fallen to Runaan and Ethari to watch her grow into her bull-headed early teen years, hone her natural skills and teach her to be a self-sufficient woman (even if she still had some ways to go on the _woman_ part). It’s been a while since she held that kind of negativity in her heart, but the memory will always be there.

Rayla shakes those thoughts out of her head. She wonders now where her parents were buried, and who had taken it upon themselves to return them to the earth. Ibis, maybe? No, he had said he’d only come to the Spire upon learning that Queen Zubeia had fallen ill. Avizandum had lost his life on the eve of Winter’s Turn—too long ago. Perhaps Zubeia had a hand in their rites?

She assumes Viren killed her parents upon taking the egg, at least. If they had made their stand against him in an effort to protect Zym, they wouldn’t have simply run away after failing. They would’ve died before they gave in. Part of Rayla hates herself for ever doubting them, for letting herself believe that they were cowards after all and by proxy shaming herself for it. She should’ve known her parents better than that.

She hears footsteps heading her way and resolves to worry about it later.

Rayla looks over from the bedroll she’s lying on and sees Ezran padding over. His pace becomes much more relaxed when he realizes she’s looking at him, and a sweet little smile lifts onto his face. Zym is walking along at the boy’s feet, and he breaks into a giddy run at the sight of her, round black eyes full of love.

The Dragon Prince bounds at her, and she manages to catch him after shaking off the moment of surprise. He writhes in her arms, cooing and pawing at her hands. “Easy there, Zym,” she cautions the little storm dragon. She doesn’t want to wake Callum before he’s ready. To his credit, Zym seems to get it and pacifies, sitting on his haunches on Rayla’s stomach and waiting patiently.

“How is he?” asks Ez, hands twitching at his sides.

Rayla smirks. “Fine, Ez. You don’t need to worry. Rayla’s got it all under control.”

It gets a measured laugh out of the younger prince. “I know you do. I just can’t help but worry.” Rayla hums understandingly.

“How are things out there?”

Ezran looks over his shoulder as if to remind himself of the situation outside the cave. “It’s… tense, but not in like a really bad way. Everyone’s kind of sticking to their groups, except for a few of our healers looking after the Sunfire elves. It’s a little hard to tell if they’re okay with that or not. Some of the elves look miffed.”

“They’ll just have to get over it. They didn’t exactly bring a surplus of healers to fight Viren with,” Rayla said. She chewed on her bottom lip a bit.

“Aunt Amaya and Janai seem to be getting along well, though. Maybe everyone else can follow their example.” Ezran seems really hopeful about that, and Rayla concurs with him, but she knows deep down it’ll take some getting used to. The human healers are probably helping the wounded elves more because their duty compels them. She can see it in her mind’s eye: a peaceful Xadia where humans and elves coexist, but the reality is if they want to promote peace, they’ll need more time.

“Rayla?” Ez asks, “What exactly happened up there? With Viren, I mean.”

Rayla frowns. She _knows_ what happened, theoretically. But she had kind of stopped paying attention to Viren once they started falling. When she had looked up and realized Callum had followed her over the edge, her focus had shifted entirely to him and his stupid self. In the back of her mind, she recalled an enraged sort of scream as Callum sprouted his wings and snatched her up.

“Well,” she says, “I guess he… _fell._ All the way to the ground.” It feels abrupt, like she’s brushing off the dark mage’s fate. But she _knows_ how important it is to know exactly what happened, and she’s already figured out what Ezran is going to say before he says it.

“We had a search party look all around the Storm Spire. We couldn’t find his body,” he reveals.

Rayla’s brow furrows. That’s worrying, indeed. Surely, he couldn’t have survived the fall, could he? No. It’s impossible, no matter how strong Viren’s dark magic might’ve been. He was still only human.

“Do you think we should be worried?” Ezran asks, but it really sounds like he’s already worrying himself to death and is just asking her for the sake of his own conscience.

Rayla smiles weakly. “Maybe, but… not right now,” she says, “It’s possible he’s just been lost among the rest of the bodies.” She doesn’t really believe that herself, honestly, but it feels nice to say it. It eases her growing concern enough for her to forget about it until tomorrow. Right now, she wants to put her focus on everyone’s recovery, primarily Callum’s.

“I hope you’re right,” Ez mumbles. He looks a little queasy, not exactly thrilled to be so overtly talking about another person’s death, but the things he’s seen and experienced on this journey have hardened him considerably. Ezran’s not the boy he was.

Rayla supposes that none of them are the people they were a few weeks ago. Back then, Ezran was just a little prince, expecting that he was so far away from the responsibilities of a king. She was an assassin on a mission of revenge, and Callum was trying to figure out his place in the world. Now, Ezran is a rightful king, Callum’s a full-blown sky mage, and Rayla… well, she’s a lot of things. A Dragonguard? An outcast? An elf with a human lover?

That’s all too depressing to think about. They’ve won, she should be happy. She’ll figure out her next steps—her place in this new world—later.

Ezran seems to recognize that they don’t have anything more to say right now, and he turns his doting eyes to Azymondias.

“C’mon, Zym! Let’s leave Callum and Rayla alone.” The Dragon Prince whines, so Rayla strokes his neck before she shoos him, and Zym seems satisfied enough with the attention before he bounds back to the ground and starts trotting along with Ezran as he leaves the cave.

Their shapes disappear into the light at the cave’s mouth and Rayla cocks her head at Callum, still blissfully asleep there on his bedroll. “Care to comment on any of that?” He doesn’t. Rayla rolls her eyes. She’s always known that Callum sleeps deeply, that it’s hard to wake him once his breathing has evened out and he’s slipped into the clutches of sleep. Rayla almost envies him. She’s always slept exceptionally light. A twig snapping underfoot has always been more than enough to wake her. As a result, it’s pretty rare that she gets a long, uninterrupted period of rest.

She expects that Callum will keep on sleeping for a while. She can’t claim to know how long he’ll be out, can’t claim to know just how much the flying spell took out of him and how much he needs to recharge, but she expects it’ll be some time. And he asked her to stay, so she doesn’t plan on leaving.

It’s a good compromise, she thinks, to try and catch a few Z’s of her own. She hasn’t been able to take a midday nap in quite some time, having been on the move from Xadia to Katolis and then—albeit in the most unexpected of fashions—back again. In the Silvergrove, midday naps were practically a village ritual, since Moonshadow elves commonly stayed awake until the wee hours of the morning.

Rayla turns onto her left side, relieved not for the first time that she can rest on her left arm and not find herself in searing pain. She faces Callum and appraises his dozing features. His cute little nose twitches with each breath he takes, but that’s about the extent of his activity now. He’s in an even deeper sleep than he was before.

Rayla reaches out to take the hand closest to her, gently holding it in her palm. Callum didn’t stir, but that’s okay. His pulse is steady, composed.

They’re both okay. And that’s all that matters to her.

* * *

_“Rayla.”_

How is it that her name sounds so beautiful in his voice, she wonders? How is that when her name rolls off of his tongue, it makes her feel like he’s hailing a goddess? It’s felt that way for a long time. She remembers when he’d fallen into a deep sleep after using dark magic to free Pyrrah. The foul sorcery’s rot had infected him, the _wrongness_ of it all a blight on his being. He’d moaned and groaned in his sleep, in so much pain that Rayla thought he might die. The sight had almost gotten her to spill the contents of her heart. _Almost._

_“Rayla…”_

It’s too difficult to resist the sound of his voice now. A tiny flicker of warmth blooms in her chest. Rayla opens herself to the world, bleary-eyed and immediately aware based on sheer intuition that she’s been sleeping for longer than she originally intended. Clearly, she needed the rest. She can already tell that it’s dark out; the cave is illuminated by the torches along the walls, and because of them it’s brighter in the cavern than before.

She’s expecting her vision to clear to the sight of Callum leaning over her, maybe trying to shake her awake. She _is_ responding to his voice, after all, and he’s saying her name. It’s a logical conclusion. But instead, he’s still lying where he was when she left the world of the living, except there are a few things off. He’s saying her name, alright, but he’s fast asleep. Dreaming.

It isn’t a happy dream, that much is clear to Rayla. Callum’s sweating. She realizes that her right hand is still entwined with his and pulls it away, frowning as she watches him. Her ears droop down like wilting flowers. He’s in a sort of pain that gives her flashbacks to his dark magic coma. She doesn’t like that memory.

 _“No, I…”_ Callum mutters with a sleepy wince. His head twitches away from her with a sudden jerk. _“Rayla…”_

She should wake him up. Whatever he’s dreaming about, he doesn’t seem to be enjoying it. Rayla scrambles onto her knees and leans over him so she can see his face, curling all eight of her fingers around his right arm. Her hands cover one of the runic tattoos on his skin (and ooh, she can feel a little muscle there. How nice). _Calm down, Rayla._

“Callum,” she says, shaking him gently at first. When that doesn’t work, she jostles him a little harder and raises her voice, “Callum!”

Callum jerks awake with a desperate gasp of air, his eyes flicking open so suddenly that his entire body tenses up. He tilts his head back in her direction and suddenly sits up, forcing Rayla to let go of his arm and lean back to avoid having the crown of his skull meet hers. That actually might hurt him more than it would hurt her (she’s famously hard-headed), but regardless she doesn’t want to test the theory.

Callum looks at her and breathes in again, looking considerably more relaxed as he takes in her image. “You’re okay,” he says, and the notion is so absurd that Rayla cracks a grin and snarks back at him.

“’Course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I just… I was having a bad dream,” Callum explains.

“Oh? Care to talk about it? It sure didn’t seem pleasant,” says Rayla. Callum scratches his head, mulling it over.

“Well, the short version is… that spell I used? I… didn’t catch up to you in time,” Callum says, gloomy.

“That _is_ a short version,” Rayla teases, and Callum gives a very loud sigh.

“Hey, it had me fooled, alright?”

“I figured as much. You kept repeating my name over there,” she says. Callum grimaces—apparently, she heard everything.

“That was probably me… agonizing over your dead body after you hit the ground,” he grumbles out. His attitude brings her aloof, teasing demeanor to a screeching halt. She can see that he’s a little shaken up by what happened in his dream—maybe a little too much, but the tangible hurt in his eyes strikes enough of a chord that Rayla can’t help but want to cheer him up.

“Hey.” Rayla takes his hand and laces their fingers together, giving him a reassuring squeeze for good measure. “’Twas just a dream, alright? I’m here, Callum, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m safe.”

Callum sighs. “I know. I’m sorry for getting worked up. I’m being stupid.”

Rayla smirks at him. “If it makes you feel any better, I actually think it’s kind of sweet.” Callum gets a rascally glint in his eye; he’s caught her in the act of having feelings and Rayla knows what’s on the tip of his tongue.

“It’s what?” he toys, and she’s not having any of it.

“Not repeating myself,” she snaps, and immediately gets to work on changing the subject far away from this. “How are you feeling?”

Callum takes the bait and extends his arms out in front of him, inspecting himself. “Pretty good,” he concludes, and started to stretch. As he did so, he glanced down at his vest. “I didn’t even notice my jacket was gone. That’s a shame. I liked that one.”

Rayla snorts. “Turns out turning your arms into giant wings isn’t good for your clothes,” she quips, gaining a sense of satisfaction when Callum’s lip quirks upward in a smirk.

“Yeah, who knew?” he adds jokingly, “I guess I’ll just have to start wearing sleeveless vests more often.”

“I think I could tolerate that,” says Rayla, and Callum’s smirk only grows. She shrugs at him. If he’s going to laugh at her for being attracted to him, then so be it. It’s his fault for being handsome.

The voices outside start to get louder. Rayla looks over her shoulder at the cave’s dark entrance. “Sounds like we’re about to have company,” she says, and rises to her feet. Her shoulder complains as she tries to work out the soreness. She’s pretty sure it’s the shoulder she rammed into Viren with but can’t quite remember for certain. The entire day is kind of a blur.

She’s barely registering that the arms that snake around her waist are Callum’s before he spins her around to face him. He leans in to kiss her, catching her lips with his own softly but confidently. Rayla wonders with a start when he became so confident; she remembers all too easily how timid he used to be, as if he were potentially stepping out of line every time he spoke. She’s only able to ponder that for a split-second before she succumbs to him and melts into the kiss. She likes Confident Callum.

Callum retreats from her, though he keeps his arms wrapped lovingly around her waist in a gentle embrace. His smirk is gone; in its place is a genuine smile that makes even his eyes glow with his inner kindness. Self-consciously, Rayla tilts her head down and to the side, hating the furious blush that starts to burn on her cheeks. She doesn’t really get why she’s all of a sudden clamming up in front of him.

“What was that for?” she mutters.

Callum shrugs, so very pleased with himself. “Just wanted to get one in before we’ll have everyone’s attention. You know, so I don’t cause a scandal.”

That stirs something different within her. Rayla looks up to meet his eyes, one of her ears twitching as the first few people start to filter into the cavern, and surges forward to kiss him back more deliberately. She takes a certain enjoyment in the gasps that ripple through the pack of humans and elves as they catch sight of them, arms draped around one another and brushing their lips together. Callum’s reasonably reluctant and pulls back rather quickly, and now it’s Rayla’s turn to smirk. As much as she likes Confident Callum, there’ll always be a soft spot in her heart for the bumbling, self-conscious Bashful Callum.

“Screw them,” she says pointedly and drops her hands away from him. She grasps his hand and catches the ghost of a smile on his face as she turns to face the crowd, gauging the spectrum of reactions. Ezran’s in the middle, grinning at them like a little boy who’s just finished building the perfect snow elf, while others like Queen Aanya of Duren and Janai are startled by the sight of their affection, though not outright scandalized. Soren’s over closer to the end of the line, one hand on the pommel of his sword and beaming with pride. His “step-prince” is growing up right before his eyes.

“So, uh,” Callum stutters, “What did we miss?”

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's probably it for this, because the next part would probably just be the scene where Zubeia wakes and I have absolutely no plot in mind for this. But, I thought it might be fun to leave a few threads hanging that might lead into the events of Through the Moon, the upcoming graphic novel set in between seasons 3 and 4 (assuming Netflix picks it up, as they haven't officially ordered a new season yet). I'm not really a comic book reader, but I loved The Dragon Prince so much that I'm definitely changing that, even if it's the only graphic novel I ever buy.
> 
> If you'd be so kind, please consider boosting my story stats in some shape or form. Comments would be especially appreciated, but that's up to all of you. Thanks so much for taking the time to read my writing.


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